


Concessions

by blackchaps



Series: Hawkeye and the Furball [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's up early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concessions

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this makes no sense. I wanted to do a bit of writing tonight, and this popped out of my brain!

********

It was the chill from the other side of the bed that woke him. Some part of him knew the dawn was moments away, and a big part of him wanted to roll the blankets a bit tighter and drift back to sleep. He was retired. There was no reason to get up before the sun. No long morning drive to the university awaited him.

Stretching, Jim flexed his knee ten times like his doctor had recommended before he got out of bed. He couldn’t decide why he was getting up, but it seemed he was. Throwing back the heavy blankets, he shivered a little as his feet searched for his slippers. The bathroom was his first stop, and it was there he wrapped his robe around his body, glad for the warmth.

Winter was knocking on his door, and today might be the day he turned on the heat. He was stubborn, but he’d take no chance that his pipes would freeze. After washing his hands, he smeared some Aspercreme on his knee, knowing that his knee wanted the heat on right now.

Right as the sun peeked over the horizon, he started downstairs, pulling Clint’s door shut, again. It was open every morning, as if someone thought he needed reminding of his troublesome cousin. He didn’t. Pushing the button on the coffee machine, he heard a long whinny come from the direction of the barn, solving the mystery of why he was up.

It was taking some getting used to, having a woman in the house again. Concessions to be made, different foods in the refrigerator, and… a pounding on the deck broke into his thoughts. He padded over to the front door, opening it and glaring at the hoofed intruder.

“No hooves on the deck! We’ve discussed this!” He knew his voice lacked any semblance of sternness.

She tossed her long mane and neighed loud enough to be heard on the next reservation.

“I need coffee!” But he could see his heartless woman didn’t care in the least. He shut the door on her enthusiasm for life and went to get dressed, adding some long underwear to help with the cold. By the time he got back downstairs, the coffee was ready and he poured a thermos full to the brim before trudging out to the barn and morning chores.

He’d never won an argument with a woman in his life, and he didn’t think today would be his day to start. She batted her big eyes at him, dogging his footsteps and bumping him when he fed the chickens. The rooster looked surprised to see him this early, and he took a break for coffee while Bug scurried around his boots.

Another neigh, this one soft and sweet, made him sigh and slug it back. Fifteen minutes and one saddle later, they were traveling east. No leather reins to grip in his cold hands, so he tucked them in his coat pockets and rocked along, sitting deep.

The sun blazed into the sky, a gift of another day, and he tossed a salute at a coyote who stopped to watch them pass. It never paid to be rude to coyote. He lifted his chin so the cold wind teased his hair back and gave thanks to the spirits who moved in the world.

She nodded her head, wise in her years, and he didn’t miss his bed.

********

end


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